64M3 0V312: Game Over
by CaffinatedCaffy
Summary: One shot: Matt isn't feeling too hot about Mello constantly ignoring him. Can he capture Mello's attention? Warnings: Attempted suicide, male/male. T for safety.


I looked sadly over towards my roommate; Mello had stuck with me ever since I'd arrived at the orphanage... Until now.

As of late, Mello had become even more obsessive with his work than usual. He rarely came into the room, and when he did, he was either studying or passed out on his bed. He never even _glanced_ at me anymore. When he would speak, it was either loud, animated, and angry, or passive. It was always about either Near or God.

Admittedly, I was extraordinarily jealous of Near and Mello's God. I was so desperate for his attention that I've been considering actually _doing_ my work and passing Mello in grades just to piss him off; to get a reaction.

At least he'd pay attention to me. I'd probably get a good beating, or at least just verbal abuse. Maybe then he'd see the way I look at him, the fact that every time he walks in or out without so much as looking in my direction it nearly kills me.

I lit a cigarette in the room, hoping Mello would say something to get me to stop. No, all I received was the sound of Mello coughing on the smoke. I hastily hung my arm out the window - I didn't want to harm him. So I leaned over the window, occasionally chancing a glance at the blonde. Couldn't he tell what this treatment did to me?

No, of course not. My goggles hid all emotion that I didn't purposely show (He wouldn't see it anyway; he never looks at me). I frowned, flicking the ash off of the tip of my cigarette. "Mello?" I asked hesitantly. He didn't look up from his textbook, nor did he make any indication of acknowledging me. I make a noise of frustration and stubbed out my cigarette on the side of the building, letting it fall to the bushes below. I quickly got up and stormed into the bathroom; I had thrown my PSP on the bed in anger.

I locked the door behind me, and sat down on the toilet lid. Propping my elbows up onto my knees, I began to cry. Yes, a sixteen year old genius was crying his eyes out. _Why?_ I suddenly heard in the back of my head. _Why does he matter so much to you? _'Cus he's Mello, I thought.

_What does 'Mello' signify to you?_ I heard again. Damnit, get out of my head. _Answer,_ the voice was persistent. I sighed and pulled down my goggles. I walked over to the sink with a stagger, everything was so _white_ in here; I missed the orange tint that my goggles provided. I turned on the cold water faucet and peeled off my gloves. Everything felt so raw without my buffers to the world. Curiously, I unlaced my boots and took off my socks. I gasped at the cool tile beneath my feet, and proceeded to remove my shirt as well, to examine the creamy flesh. The only time I took off my clothes was to shower - which, admittedly, was not often enough.

The water was still running. I put a pinky finger under it, shivering at the freezing temperature. Then I cupped my hands and threw the water onto my face, giving me a dose of harsh reality. _Mello doesn't care. _

_Why does it matter?_ I heard that voice ask again. 'Cus... 'Cus... I could feel myself sweat, I was thinking so hard. Fuck, what is wrong with me?

I could feel my hands slip all over the counter, making their way up to the medicine cabinet. They were opening the cabinet, looking for something. Something that would leave a mark; an impression.

My hands rested upon Mello's miniature straightening iron. I grasped it, and plugged it into the socket, uncaring about the wetness of my fingers. I turned the faucet off, waiting for the straightener to heat up. A green light turned on when it was ready, and before I knew what was happening, I could feel myself pressing it into the flesh of my arm at lightning speed. There was a method to my madness - I wasn't sure what it was quite yet, but it was going to make itself apparent quite soon.

! 10\/3 (\/)3110 ... I love Mello.

I screamed at the pain the straightener's heat was causing. My flesh was hot and sizzling with the clear burns from my madness. I could feel my good arm again reaching for the medicine cabinet as I heard pounding on the bathroom door.

The noise was all blocked out as I gripped a razor from the cabinet, quickly dismantling it and taking out one of the blades. I could feel the blade's cool metal against my fingers. I began to grate into the counter top of the sink with the razor, making permanent indents into it.

64M3 0V3r.

Game Over.

I gripped the razor tighter; my fingers were red and bloody from holding it at the wrong places and too tightly. It was jagged from scratching into the sink, and I didn't care. I brought it towards my own skin-

_You idiot! Listen!_

I dropped the razor to the ground, hearing the metal clatter as it hit the cool tile. I gasped at the sounds that all suddenly enveloped my ears.

I was heavily gasping, and I could almost hear my skin sizzling from the burns of Mello's straightener... _Mello_. I could hear pounding on the bathroom door, and faintly, words...

"Matt, please... Open up..."

My eyes widened in surprise. Mello was speaking, to _me_! And he was worried...

"Mello!" I shouted, throwing the door open. Immediately he fell onto me, and his eyes immediately changed from worried to angry.

"Matt! What the fuck are you doing in here? Suddenly you just storm into here, I hear you _crying_, and then you're _screaming at the top of your fucking lungs_! What is-"

He froze when he saw my arm. It must have looked like gibberish to him unless he took the time to really _look_ at it; it was ASCII after all.

But... he wasn't trying to read it. His eyes were just steadily growing larger, as he looked around the room. "M-Matt... Did you... try to kill yourself?"

"I-I.. I'm not quite sure," _Yes you did you lying little-_ Mello shot me a look of disapproval.

"What's that on your arm...?" He asked me, pulling it close to him so he could look better. "You did this with my straightener," He stated sadly. I hung my head down in dismay. He was mad. He was furious. Any minute now he was going to-

"I'm sorry," I heard him whisper. Mello pulled me even closer to him, and then suddenly he was hugging me, mindful of my burns and cuts. "This is all my fault, isn't it? I haven't spoken to you in months..." He cringed suddenly into my collarbone; I could feel his sharp intake of breath. In fact, I could feel every movement he made.

He pulled away, and looked at my burn more closely this time, trying to make sense of it. "It's L337-speak," I supplied weakly.

"Leet?" Mello asked, confused. "... L O V... is that an E? Oh, the exclamation point is an I..."

"It's like morse code for geeks," I said with a frown. He was going to figure it out.

"Matt... is that my name?" I could hear him ask. I frowned and tried to think of the best way to answer that question.

"Yes," I said, a blush covering my cheeks.

Mello crushed his lips against my own, re-engaging our embrace. He wrapped his arms around my exposed torso, and pulled away when he needed to breathe. "I'm... _so_ sorry, Matt. I never... I never, ever, wanted to see you hurt, especially like this," Mello said with a frown.

"How come you're being so nice?" I asked, confused. I touched my un-injured index finger to my lower lip, feeling a tingling sensation.

"Look at you," Mello glared. "I have to be nice... At least for now."

Suddenly I felt like I needed to hold onto every inch of Mello I possibly could. I grasped him tightly in my arms, wrapping my arms fully around him, uncaring towards my injuries. "Why haven't you been speaking to me?" I asked sadly, breathing heavily in the crook of his neck.

"Because, Matt... I love you. I've been trying to ignore it," He admitted.

I felt like flying. "_Respawn_!" I could hear myself shouting in victory. I placed my hands on both of Mello's cheeks and kissed him sweetly, smiling like an idiot.

* * *

**A/N: **L337 Speak is basically a code that many hackers use in order to stop others from reading what they're typing. I could've made what Matt wrote much more elaborate and whatnot, but the characters allowed here and the ones I would need do not coincide. -sigh- So it's rather simple, and the symbols look like the letters they're supposed to signify. Don't look at them as what they are - look at them as symbols, representing letters.

**A/N 2:** This is my first one-shot that I'm actually happy with :) Well, this was obviously in Wammy's orphanage, in case someone couldn't tell. I've used the fan rendition of Matt 'cus I like that one more (red hair, freckles, green eyes, etc). Also, I'd like it if you pressed the review button. It makes me happy inside (and stops Mat from committing suicide again :) ) Thanks for reading.


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